


Post 5x20 Spec Fic

by skimmy77



Series: Olicity Drabbles [24]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, F/M, Grief, reunion kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 02:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10800270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skimmy77/pseuds/skimmy77
Summary: Speculative fic: A quiet but emotionally charged moment for Felicity after the events of 5x20, a bottle of whiskey, and a supportive and caring Oliver to help her.





	Post 5x20 Spec Fic

**Author's Note:**

> It’s not gonna happen this way, of course, but a girl can dream.
> 
> Not beta’d.

Felicity traced the rim of Oliver’s glass as she took a quiet moment for herself. There was still a little whiskey in it, and she could see the faint imprint of his lips on the rim. One thought circled in her head as she stared at the amber liquor.

_Drink it. Chug it. Refill and repeat._

It would be an easy escape from all the other thoughts and emotions bubbling just under the surface of her consciousness. The more those thoughts and feelings intruded, the stronger the desire to drink grew. If the thoughts took over, she would drown in them. With no guarantees of resurfacing.

The feeling that pushed her into action was terror; the terror she had felt when Oliver was unconscious.

Felicity brought the glass to her lips and tossed her head back without a second thought. She had to admit, Oliver’s taste in liquor was always on point. There was barely any bite to its flavor, and the fire that trailed down her throat was smooth and pleasant. It warmed up her stomach, and lingered on her tongue with its sweet aftertaste.

Without hesitating, she refilled the glass about halfway and chugged it in three swallows. Her stomach put up a token protest, causing her to gag a bit, but she fought against it with all her might. Then she refilled the glass again.

“Hey,” came his soft voice from over her shoulder as he stilled her hand with his. “Take it easy.”

“I’m a grown woman,” she bit out, “I can do what I want.”

Felicity cringed internally at the ensuing silence, knowing she went too far. But she had a hard time feeling too bad about it, because his mere presence threatened to break through her emotional barriers. It was too much.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “That was harsh.”

Oliver sat down with a sigh beside her. Felicity closed her eyes and doubled down on shutting out her feelings.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

Felicity barked a laugh as tears sprung to her eyes. _Dammit._ “I’m fine.”

Without looking, she could tell he tilted his head, giving her a pointed glare.

_Stubborn idiot._ “I just—“ Her voice wavered. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I just want to not think.”

Oliver reached for her hand again, caressing her fingertips. “What are you running from?”

A fresh wave of grief welled up her throat, and more tears filled her eyes. “Please,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

But Oliver persisted. He pulled his chair closer to her wheelchair, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She stiffened at first, trying to preserve her composure, but when his lips landed on her head, her composure cracked. She swallowed a sob. And then another. The crack widened and the trickle of grief flowed faster, until she surrendered and leaned into Oliver’s embrace, shaking as she cried.

Felicity lost all sense of time as feelings overwhelmed her. She felt an incredible pressure on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. When the pressure became too much, she gasped deeply, followed by sobs she could no longer suppress. At some point, Oliver pulled her out of the wheelchair and into his lap, where he cradled her in his arms and rocked her side to side.

“It’s okay,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ve got you. Let it all out.”

With the dam finally broken, all the thoughts she ran from finally caught up to her. They flowed through her mind disjointedly, competing to be heard, overlapping each other into a giant, tangled mess.

She was paralyzed again. There were no other prototypes. The only existing prototype would have to be repaired, but there was no guarantee that it could be fixed.

She and Oliver had come to an understanding after a year of --

Pain, in her back, her legs numb, a moment of self-pity -- _why me –_

Had it been a mistake, joining Helix? No, she did what she had to -- _but at what cost?_ \-- she wanted to carry the same burdens Oliver did.

_I love him._

If she never walks again, how could she be a mother? Did Oliver even want to have kids? – _that’s jumping the gun we’re not even back together yet –_

_I want to get back together with Oliver._

What about William?

They had to deal with Chase first. Chase the psychopath, Chase, the worst villain they’ve ever gone up against, and that’s saying something because one of them almost nuked the entire world—

_Havenrock—_

Her sobbing intensified with the last thought, guilt and grief drowning out all conscious thought. Oliver’s arms tightened around her, and he whispered words of comfort in her ear.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the intensity of Felicity’s grief abated, her sobs fading into hiccups. Oliver continued holding her, still gently rocking his chair.

“Better?” he asked quietly.

Felicity nodded. She took a deep, cleansing breath, and started moving to leave Oliver’s lap—

\--until she remembered she couldn’t walk.

One last spate of grief bubbled up, like an aftershock, but it didn’t last very long.

“What is it?” Oliver asked.

She huffed a bitter laugh. “You’re gonna have to carry me again.”

His hand reached up to wipe her wet cheeks. “Are you okay with that?”

Felicity shrugged, keeping her eyes averted. “I have to be.”

“Hey.” He lifted her chin, redirecting her gaze. The emotion she saw in his eyes—sorrow, hope, _love—_ pierced through her, all the way down to her soul. It felt as if his gaze was a tangible thing, wrapping itself around her and making her feel safe. “You’re gonna get through this,” he reassured. “You’re gonna be okay.”

The way he said it, with such conviction and belief, settled something in her heart. All her tumultuous emotions fled in the face of his absolute faith in her, leaving only love in its wake.

“Will you help me?” she asked in a small voice, feeling naked and vulnerable.

His eyes lit up as the corner of his lips ticked up. “Always.”

_Always_ , the word he’d used in his fake-not-so-fake vows, the word that carried so much weight between them; Felicity’s heart stuttered as she vividly recalled that moment. He had looked at her then exactly as he stared at her now, and maybe for the first time, she believed, in her bones, that Oliver really loved her.

Felicity extended her hand to run her fingers through his hair. Oliver closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, his forehead creasing with something like pain.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered with a frown.

His eyes popped open in surprise. “For what?”

Her hand drifted down to his chest. She focused on the rhythm beneath her hand for a moment before replying, “for breaking your heart.”

The pain on Oliver’s face intensified, his brows pinched and his lips pressed together. He swallowed, and then nodded once.

Felicity inched her head closer to Oliver’s, intending to rest her forehead against his. But then his eyes widened and his lips parted in surprise, and she changed her mind.

She reached for his lips instead.

Oliver gasped, and Felicity felt his heart beat faster under her hand. She kept the kiss chaste, tentative. It was more of a question than a statement, and far too soon, she pulled back to see Oliver’s reaction.

He stared at her, eyes wide with wonder and a smile playing on his lips. His chest was still, as if he was holding his breath. Felicity smiled, then nodded, and he finally expelled a breath.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“Yeah.”

Oliver wrapped his hand behind her head and pulled her forward, swallowing up her lips with a more passionate kiss.


End file.
